the candles are burning low
by ipsa dixit
Summary: "It's to share the miracle," Anthony blurts outs, staring at the burning candles. "We want everyone to see them, so we put them at the windowsill so everyone can appreciate our miracle."


_glossary of jewish words in this fic:_

 _bracha - a common name for jewish girls. means a blessing_

 _chanukah - also known as hannukah. the jewish festival of lights, involving lighting candles every night for eight nights_

 _daven - the jewish way of saying prayer_

 _dreidel - a spinning top game_

 _hanerot halalu - means 'we light these candles'. jewish chanukah song saying the reason for lighting the candles every night_

 _kippah - a hat type thing jewish boys wear. also known as a yarmulke_

 _kosher - jews can only eat certain foods. the law are long and complicated but in short jews can't eat most seafood, which marshmallows are made with_

 _latkes - potato pancakes_

 _maoz tzur - a common jewish song for chanukah. means 'rock of ages'_

 _menorah - the candelabra jews light the chanukah candles in_

 _prompts at the bottom_

 _thanks to shiba and ck for betaing!_

 _1069 words, by google docs_

* * *

"Are you celebrating Christmas with your family, Anthony?"

Terry's question is simple, really, but it still makes Anthony want to laugh. No, he's not celebrating _Christmas_ with his family.

"No," Anthony answers, not saying anything more.

"You're staying at Hogwarts, then?" One of Terry's hands is shoved in a bag full of mini-marshmallows, which he has been throwing at Anthony for the past hour, trying to get him to eat them.

They're not Kosher.

"No, I'm going home," Anthony says, catching one of the marshmallows and throwing them back. He probably has enough in his hair to last him for the entire break.

"But not celebrating Christmas?" Terry asks slowly. Anthony shifts in his seat.

It's not like it's a _secret_ that he's Jewish. He just hasn't told Terry. And he doesn't _flaunt_ it, either; his kippah is tucked away in his trunk and it's not like he davens every day. For some reason it's been easier for Anthony to just keep it to himself that he's Jewish.

Now, though, he's probably not going to be able to get out of telling Terry; once Terry wants an answer he _gets_ an answer. Terry launches another marshmallow at Anthony.

"I'm Jewish," Anthony blurts out. For some reason, the words taste weird on his mouth. They taste foreign. "I've never celebrated Christmas."

Terry blinks, a marshmallow in his hand, on the way to his mouth.

"You've never celebrated Christmas?"

"It's not a Jewish thing. I've never celebrated Christmas. Sorry," Anthony tells him. He rolls his eyes; Terry still looks shocked.

" _I'm_ sorry," Terry counters. "You've been missing out. Wait—don't you celebrate that Jewish Christmas? I think it's something like Harmonica?"

Anthony raises his eyebrows. "You mean Chanukah?"

"Yeah, that."

Anthony sighs. Sometimes, Terry is a little bit too nosy. Sometimes, Anthony thinks that he should've been in Gryffindor with the amount of boldness he has.

"It's not a Jewish Christmas," he says instead. "It's its own holiday. But yes, I'm celebrating it over break."

Terry makes a little disapproving sound with his throat before saying, "Well, I want to come and celebrate it, anyway. To see if it's as good as Christmas."

And, judging by Terry's tone, that was that.

Anthony should probably write to his parents.

* * *

Anthony is nervous when he gets on the train. Anthony is nervous when he gets off the train. Anthony is nervous when they find his parents.

He pulls Terry aside before they enter his house. His palms are sweating and he doesn't know why he feels so nervous.

"Are you okay?" he asks Terry, as if Terry's the nervous one and not him.

"I don't know how to do Chanukah," he hisses to Anthony, "but I know enough that I won't die. So, teach me how to do this."

"Right," Anthony says, wringing his hands together. "Just try to not light anything on fire. Except for the candles. Those you need to light on fire. But I mean only some of them. Until the last night. Then you light them all and—"

"Mate," Terry says, cutting him off. "Just tell me what to do and it'll be fine. I'm excited!"

Terry pulls away from Anthony and makes his way into the house. Anthony follows, not sure about the grin on Terry's face.

* * *

Nothing has been set on fire that shouldn't have been, which is good. It's finally the eighth night—the last night—now, and Anthony finally relaxes. A little bit.

Terry seems to having fun and for that, he's grateful—Terry hasn't thought anything was weird, from the Latkes to the Dreidel games Anthony's younger sister Bracha forces them to play. In fact, Terry has eaten a _lot_ of Latkes and he's pretty good at Dreidel, too, not that Anthony would admit it— _he's_ supposed to be the best.

"Last night?" Terry asks as they huddle around the windowsills, preparing to light all nine of the candles on the Menorah. When it's Terry's turn, Anthony still holds his breath until he finishes, but he does it flawlessly. Anthony had no doubts.

They then sing Hanerot Halalu and Maoz Tzur, Terry humming along, getting the groove of it after eight days of hearing it.

"How did you like your first Chanukah, Terry?" Anthony's mom asks after they finish up.

 _Such a Jewish mother, Mom_ , Anthony thinks. _Please just leave him alone. Don't embarrass me_.

"It was great, Mrs Goldstein, thank you," Terry says. He smiles but then falters. "I have some questions, though."

"Ask anything you want," Anthony's father says. His father is big man, tall and strong, with a huge beard.

"Why eight days?" Terry asks, looking up at Anthony's father.

"In the story, that's the time the candles burn for—eight days and eight nights until the Jews could get holy oil," Anthony's father explain. Terry nods, biting his lip. "Anything else?"

"I thought this was like the Jewish Christmas. Where…?" Terry trails off, but Bracha jumps in.

"Where are the presents? That's only in some families. Not ours though," she says, really fast. Anthony stays quiet, watching his family talk with Terry. Terry shrugs.

"Okay. Also, what's with all the oil?"

"We really want to drive home the miracle of one jug of oil lasting for eight days, honestly," Anthony's mother answers with a little laugh.

"Well, you really got that," Terry remarks. Everyone but Anthony laughs. Anthony just stands there, quiet. "Why do we light the candles on the windowsill? That's the last thing I've been wondering."

"Oh, that's easy. I thought Anthony said you were in the _smart_ house," Bracha pipes up, waving her hand.

"Bracha," Anthony's mom scolds.

Terry goes red and glances towards Anthony, but Anthony just stares pointedly at the candles. Why is he clamming up around his family and his best friend?

Maybe it's because he doesn't really want Terry here. This is his family's moment and Terry… Terry's his best friend, but not his family.

And then Anthony blinks, hard, thinking about Terry's question.

"It's to share the miracle," he blurts outs, staring at the burning candles. "We want everyone to see them, so we put them at the windowsill so everyone can appreciate our miracle."

Everyone is quiet for a moment, letting Anthony's words hang in the air. Terry's the first one to talk again.

"Well, you succeeded in sharing the miracle. With me." Terry looks at Anthony and smiles. "Thank you for this."

The candles burn on.

* * *

 _for:_

 _the houses competition [gryffindor, hoh, short - "i know enough not to die. So teach me how to do this"]_

 _assignment 7 [divination, task 1 - a fic where the number 8 is important]_

 _auction challenge [relationship - roommates]_

 _pinata challenge [friendship]_

 _couple appreciation [sharing traditions]_

 _film festival [a group of different people spending time together]_

 _writing club [disney - friendship (bonus 10 points); amber's attic - 8; showtime - entr'acte/marilyn monroe 2; days of the month - sibling day; lyric alley - the light dims without regret; sophie's shelf - settings at night; lo's lowdown - phil coulson]_


End file.
